


Hold me tight and don't let me go

by Cant_find_a_perfect_name



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Inspired by The End of The Fucking World, Kidnapped Sam Winchester, Kidnapping, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Scared Sam Winchester, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Trauma, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29307753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cant_find_a_perfect_name/pseuds/Cant_find_a_perfect_name
Summary: Dean Winchester is an infamous serial killer. No, WAS an infamous serial killer. He's done killing people. Now, he just wants a companion, who would tags along with him on his endless adventure. Luckily, Sam's here to fill in that blank position.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester(minor), Sam Wesson/Dean Winchester
Comments: 30
Kudos: 26





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my native language so I might make some mistakes :)) I hope you enjoy reading this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English isn't my native language so I might make some mistakes :)) I hope you enjoy reading this.
> 
> And yes, the tag said inspired by The end of the fucking world but this fanfic only “borrowed” some parts from the show. You wouldn’t notice it, or would you? :))

It’s been days since the first time he’d laid his eyes on the young male. Sam Wesson. That was his name. Sound so sweet rolled off his tongue. Sam was a good-looking man. Shaggy brown hair and big hazel eyes with his cute baby-face. Who could resist that? Definitely not him. And did he mention Sam has a beautiful smile? His smile, the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. And these dimples decorated Sam’s smile light up his heart.

He was 23 years old. Was a college student at Stanford. Had a girlfriend named Jessica Moore. Was incredibly smart. He couldn’t find anything about the man’s family. Weird.

It was freaking midnight now and Sam was still there, in the same position for the last two hours, buried his face in the books. “Study for exams,” he told Jess. He had a dream to become a lawyer and nothing would stop him, even the party his girlfriend encouraged him to come to. What a nerd! Maybe that was the reason why he chose him. 

He stood there, outside Sam’s apartment until the younger man decided it was enough studying and time to sleep. He arrived at his home sometime later. Well, not a home, just a crappy cheap motel room. You couldn’t have a home if you live a life like his. 

He picked up the newspaper on the nightstand. A huge headline printed on the paper.

The Night Hunter has retired?

He smirked. No, not retired, just an endless vacation. And the Night Hunter, he had a name. Dean Winchester. Sound just as cool as he was. And he was the man holding that newspaper. But what was the difference between those two? The Night Hunter was a serial killer who used to be the nightmare of young men and women. He sought preys at night and took their lives away. Sometimes, in his lustful days, he raped them. The Night Hunter was a sick monster who took pleasure in people’s pain. He enjoyed watching his preys’ fearful eyes as their life faded away. 

And Dean Winchester? He was just a normal guy with some dark experiences. He got tired of killing and painting the black night red. He wants a companion, and luckily, Sam was perfect for that position. No more killing, he just needed someone now. 

Now looked at the headline, he couldn’t help but smirk. The man tossed the paper in the nearby trash can. He couldn’t wait any longer. Tomorrow would be the day he welcomes his new companion. With that thought, he laid on the bed and let the unconsciousness took over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grammatical errors were fixed, but I might’ve missed some. Feel free to point out any mistakes you found. ^^


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
Sam came to, out of his dreamless slumber. He tried to move his arm only to discover he couldn’t. Something kept his arm from moving. He did the same with his legs, they were tied up. This wasn’t good. He opened his eyes and was welcome by... darkness. No, not entirely dark. He could still form things by the way the weak, little light danced. He was in the back seat of a car. Someone was driving.

What happened? The first thing he remembered was his room, he was studying and then, he heard noises in the kitchen and...

He remembered now. It hit him like lightning. The chloroform soaked cloth, the hand holding him, blackness. 

Panic, that the first thing he experienced since woke up. He tried to scream, but all that escaped his mouth was a muffled sound. This caused the man to turn around and glare at him. His eyes were emerald green. A beautiful shade of green. In other occasions, he’s fallen for him. But now, all he saw were green eyes stared at him dangerously, as if daring him to do anything funny.

“Shut up or I make you.” the man threatened. Usually, those orders did nothing to him, but as Sam was thrown into a situation like this, he was scared to death.

“Good boy,” he said softly.  
Sam has awoken and petrified, Dean could tell. He didn’t plan to scowl at the man like that. It was a poor way to welcome your new companion. But Sam made him to. How annoying!

“I’m telling you, boy. As much as I love hearing that voice of yours, I’m afraid I had to keep the gag on. But if you decide to shut your mouth and behave, I’ll think about taking that thing out.” Dean said in his casual voice, like a customer bargaining with the sale assistant.

Sam nodded, as a promise to lay still and stop his screaming and crying for help.

Dean saw this. Though he didn’t believe Sam would obey, there’s still that little fight in his eyes, hiding away from the surface. But he had to trust his companion and gain trust from the man. After all, the fastest way to gain companionship is trust.

Dean got out of the car, then opened the door to the back seat. Quickly, he took the gag out of Sam’s mouth. Didn’t miss the opportunity to caress his cheek, which made the young man flinch away from his touch. That made Dean smirked. 

“Ok, you have the permission to talk to me,” Dean said after he sat in his previous seat, “ask as many questions as you want, and I’ll answer. But if some questions are inappropriate to me, or too personal, or just because I don’t feel like answering them, I’ll avoid them.”

What the hell? Sam was so confused. This man kidnapped him, drugged him, tied him up, gagged him, and now he asked for a casual conversation like two old friends. Sam couldn’t tell what on his mind right now?

“Who are you?” Sam found the courage to ask. The first thing he needed to know was his kidnaper’s identity.  
“You can call me Dean.”  
“Why me?”  
“Huh?”

Dean was happy. His companion has started talking to him. That was a good sign. But when Sam asked the “Why me” question, he had to remind the man it was a confusing question.  
“Of all people, you took me. Why?” Sam explained.

“Because you’re cute. And you was the first one I laid my eyes on since my last kill.”

Cute? Was that what Dean thought of him. Normally, if someone told him like that, he couldn’t help but blush, or sometimes laugh nervously. But in this case, if his kidnaper called him cute, that wasn’t a good thing. Sam was so done now.

“Since my last kill”? What does that mean? Sam tried to understand what did the man mean when he said that. The young man connected the dots. The last time there were a murder case in his town was 2 months ago. Done by the Night Hunter. But the news said he retired. Unless they were wrong...  
“Oh god! You’re the Night Hunter!” Sam concluded in his most petrified voice.

That was quick. Dean expected Sam to realized that a little late. What could he say? Sam’s intelligence’s as high as his beauty.

“That was fast! You realized it faster than I thought.” Dean smirked.  
Sam never thought he’d meet a serial killer he’s been studying. He’s got this weird “serial killer fetish” that Jess usually joked. But just because he loved researching about them didn’t mean he’s dying to meet them someday.

Sam’s been searching about the Night Hunter. His sick and twist mind were always his favorite topic. But still, whenever he saw his murders on the news, he couldn’t help but shivered in fear. That why he was so relieved when he learned that the Night Hunter has retired. Guess it was too soon to celebrate.

“Are... are you going... to kill me?” he asked fearfully.

Although he tried his best to hide the fear away, his voice still sounded so shaky to his own ears. Cannot show him the fear, Sam thought, that’s what gives the murderer pleasure.

That feeling again. The feeling Dean got he when took the life away from a living human, like a Reaper. He never got tired of this. He could tasted the young man’s fear in the air. 

After a long, frightening moment of silence, Sam finally managed to speak. But the question was so weird. He didn’t expect this to happen. 

“Are you going to kill me?” Was that a trick question? Of course he not going to kill him. After all, the reason he took Sam was to have a companion, not a victim. Sam wasn’t for him to kill, he was to talk to, and if he lucky, Sam might want to have sex with him. It’s been years since the first time he had sex with someone with their permission. But he knew that was impossible.

“What? What makes you think that?” he chuckled, “I’m not gonna kill you. I’m not interested in that anymore.”  
“What do you mean?” Sam confused, “so why kidnapped me anyway?”  
“Companionship.”

Silence. Dean could particularly hear the engine running in Sam’s brain. Poor boy tried to comprehend.

“Tag along with me,” Dean explained, “that what you’re gonna do, tag along with me.”

Silence again.  
——  
Jess came home, found all the lights were off. He must has slept already, she thought. She went to their room, but couldn’t find Sam. 

“Sam, where are you, honey?” She called out.

No responses.

This wasn’t good. Sam wouldn’t go out this late. Unless for coffee. But it was 2 in the morning and if he’s gone outside, he would have leave a note. After all, he knew when Jess will come home.  
Jess was worried. She’s been looking everywhere, and his moose-sized boyfriend was nowhere to be found. Then, she saw it. Sam’s favorite pocket knife, laying on the floor, like someone just threw it and walked away. That was weird. Sam’s an organized man. There’s no way...

Jess quickly pulled out her phone, dialed 911 panickedly. She understood now, someone kidnapped Sam.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG! Your comments melted my heart! ^^  
> Here’s the new chapter!

You hungry? I know a diner nearby. Not the best one but the food is good and swallowable.” The serial killer chuckled, broke the very long silence, woke Sam up after he’s accidentally fallen asleep.

“You’re not going to leave me like this on the car, right?” Sam boldly asked. He’s been in this uncomfortable position for hours and his hands and feet couldn’t feel anything but numbness and ache. 

“Here’s the deal,” Baby stopped as the Dean said, “If you behave and don’t try to escape, I untie you. But if you don’t,” paused a moment, then he continued, “you should start living with ropes around your hands and feet.”

“Ok.” Sam nodded, without thinking.

Some times later, Sam made a relieved sign when the ropes were gone. It was good to be able to move again. The car stopped and soon he joined Dean in the diner. It was still early, but the sun was up now. What a night!  
——  
“Two queens. Don’t judge us. We’re not a couple.” Said a loud voice when the duo entered the motel.

The girl looked at Dean with wide eyes. Can’t blame her, Sam was also shocked when his kidnapper raised his voice like that. God, are they really look that gay?

With the key the girl gave him in hand, Dean went back to his car, took out his and Sam’s stuff. They stepped into their room not long after.

“You should sleep. Since you’ve only slept for an hour or so previously.” Dean suggested in his casual voice, but the tone expected no misbehavior.

“How can I know you won’t take advantage of me when I fall asleep?” Sam questioned cautiously. Disbelief, that what the man showed in his voice. He still found this got-bored-of-killing serial killer untrustworthy, even after Dean made his point of not going to hurt him.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Sam? I’m not gonna kill you.”  
“But you do want to harm me or worse, rape me, don’t you?” Sam talked back, “I thought you like to do those kinds of things to people?”  
“Fuck, Sam! I thought you were smart. If I want to, I would’ve done that when we were in the car. You know, in a remote, quiet place when it was still dark outside where no one was around. Not in this crappy motel when everyone could hear your scream in the next room.”

Knowing that there were no ways to protest his point, Sam gave up.

“Fine. But don’t watch me sleep like some perv,” Sam glared, “Stalking and kidnapping me were the creepiest things you did to me. I don’t want more.”  
Dean raised his eyebrows as a “yes” for Sam's annoying request. He’s so cute when he does that thing.  
“Sweet dreams, Sammy,” Dean said playfully.  
“Don’t call me that.”

The lights went out. Lying in the dark, Sam tried to stay awake. You can’t lower your guard when a serial killer was sleeping in the bed next to you. 

One minute turned to two. Sam felt his eyelids become heavier. Finally, he gave up as darkness took over him, lured the man into his dream.  
——  
Detective Castiel Novak showed up not long after the phone call has ended. Someone was missing and the caller was Jessica Moore, the victim’s girlfriend.

“Cassie! You’re here!” Gabriel, his partner, greeted him, a lollipop safely seated his mouth. Castiel worried the man might get diabetes if he keeps living his unhealthy lifestyle with candies.

“Hello Gabriel,” Cas greeted, unamused.

“So what do you got here?” He asked.  
“A missing case. The victim is Sam Wesson, 23 years old. Hot guy who I’d love to have sex with but I can’t because he’s taken.”  
“Gabriel, can you be serious for a second?” Cas said annoyedly.  
“Sorry,” Gabriel chuckled, that made his partner rolled his eyes, “I’ve just looked up his social media, totally not a bad one.”

“So what have you found?” Cas asked casually.  
“Oh, there’re bad news and good news. Which do you want to hear first?” Gabriel giggled, like a 5-years-old child.  
“Bad news.” The trench-coated man said, played along with his childish game.  
“Oh, knew you would choose that. None. There’s nothing to help us to solve this. Yet. Nothing but the pocket knife on the floor. And the EMR pointed out several handprints and footprints on the bedroom doorway, so the kidnapper must’ve jumped poor Sam and attacked him from behind. And Sam’s clothes are all missing. So the kidnapper definitely took them.”  
“And they were bad news because...”   
“'cause they didn’t lead us to anything useful, yet,” Gabriel answered.  
“And the good news?” The other man asked with care.  
“The kidnapper is the Night Hunter,” Gabriel replied surely.  
“Really?” His partner snorted, “I thought you said you couldn’t find anything useful.”  
“That’s just a theory, dumbass.” The shorter man crossed his arms.  
“Did you forget your “know the killer-slash-kidnapper without any evidence” skill never true?” Cas pointed out.  
“Shut up. I just got bad luck,” the shorter man protested, “but think about it, Cassie. If it really is the Night Hunter, then it’s the best day of your life!”  
“Mmm... We’ll see about that.” Cas said doubtfully.  
——  
Sam was so beautiful. If Dean didn’t hold himself back, he would pin Sam down the mattress and fuck him hard. But he couldn’t do that. That was an inappropriate way to treat his companion. Plus, the younger man was scared and still kept his distance. 

And ok, he lied about the whole watching his companion sleep. He felt like a perv now. But who can blame Dean? Sam looked so calm and cute when he slept. Even in the dark, he could still see his beautiful features: his hair, his face,... his everything.

Sam stirred in his sleep.

Four hours now. That was enough.

“Wake up, Sunshine.” he purred softly in the young man’s ear.  
“Mmm. What?” Sam said sleepily.

So adorable.

“Get ready, Sammy. We’ll hit the road soon.”

God, that voice again. Sam hated that voice. And the man’s voice. They were all terrible.

Sam groaned. Although he wanted to ignore the bastard who took him against his will and continued to sleep, he knew it was better not to disobey the man. Retired or not, he was still a cold-blooded serial killer. And Sam didn’t want to piss off a serial killer. At least in his most vulnerable mode.

“At least give me time to take a shower.” He complained.  
“Fine,” Dean nodded, “You have five minutes.”

With that, Sam got up, went to the bathroom quickly. As he waited for the water to heat up, he started making a plan to escape.  
——  
“You‘re Jessica Moore right?”  
“Yes, that’s me.” She answered the trench-coated detective.  
“How did you knew Sam was kidnapped?”  
“It was his pocket knife, I assured,” she responded firmly, “he couldn’t just toss things around like that. Sam’s very organized.”  
“Also it was late,” she added, “there’s no way he’s gone outside that late.”  
“Are you sure? What if he ran away?” Cas’s question made Gabriel glared at him.  
“That’s impossible,” she widened her eyes in disbelief, “Why should he run away?”  
“Cheating, maybe,” the detective suggested.  
“Sam is a faithful man,” Jess raised her voice in disbelief and anger, “He never does such things like that!”

“Cassie, I think you should stop.” Gabriel interrupted after he saw the girl rested her head on her palms tiredly,   
“Leave this to the professional.” He winked.

“Jessica, do you know if Sam has enemies?” the candy lover detective asked her, flashing his best charming smile.  
“What enemies?” She asked confusedly.  
“You know, someone who wanted to hurt him,” he suggested, “Are there any?”  
“No. Sam is a good man, everyone loves him. I don’t think anyone would want to hurt him.”  
“Before he went missing, did Sam act weird? Did his behavior unusual or suspicious?” Cas interrupted.  
“I don’t know,” she paused, thinking, “Oh, he looked nervous and anxious.”  
“Is that all?” Gabriel shut Cas mouth, satisfied when he succeeded.  
“He usually looked behind his back, and checked the windows, as if someone was watching him. But he never mentioned it, so I just...” she paused, looking guilty, “brushed it off.”

“Thanks for your help,” Cas broke the silence after he finished write down the information, “we’ll contact you if we found anything.”  
“Please find him. He is everything to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you spot any mistake, feel free to tell me. :)) All comments are welcomed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! ^^

“Dean, were you watching me while I was sleeping?” Sam asked, no, more like accused.  
“No?” He denied it, although his smirk told the different response.  
“Jerk! I told you not to do that.”  
“Bitch, I do whatever the hell I want.”

Sam’s been talking back a lot. He knew he shouldn’t. Being a bitch didn’t help him escape, it only pissed Dean off. He knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn’t help himself. Dean didn’t hurt him. At least now. Sam admitted he was surprised his limbs were still free and Dean hasn’t treated him like his previous victims.

The younger man was thankful for that.   
——  
A few hours before the previous event, after the detectives investigated Jess, they still couldn’t admit Gabriel was right about the kidnapper (actually it was only Cas, Gabriel stood his ground)

“C’mon Cas, he’s our guy!”  
“We don’t have enough evidence to prove that.” Cas calmly told him.  
“We also don’t have enough evidence to prove he’s not.” His partner grinned.

Castiel understood his point. Gabriel knew how much he hated the Night Hunter. After he killed his partner.

“Think about it, Cassie, this is a chance to take revenge for Meg”, Gabriel assured.

Yeah, Meg was a good woman. She’s done nothing to deserve it. She was so close to revealing the serial killer’s identity. But the fucker was so chicken so he decided killing her was the best option to shut her up.

“Gabriel, I really want to kill the bastard for good”, Cas said, “but don’t you think it’s weird for the killer to change his MO, since serial killers don’t usually do that.”  
“But that’s possible, right?” Gabriel grinned widely, “you said they don’t usually.”  
“Could be... We’ll see about that.”  
——  
The night came down. After they finished the disgusting meal at the diner Dean insisted to come (how could he eat these things, those were disgusting fast food that destroys your health every time you eat), they booked a motel room, called it a night as Sam bitching about the crappy motel beds and how he had to draw up his legs to fit in.

“Sleep well, Sammy. We have a long journey tomorrow.” Dean showed his cocky smile. God, Sam wished he could slap the damn smile off him.

Dean’s breathing was even out. But Sam knew better not to push his luck. He waited for a few minutes, making sure Dean wasn’t going to awake. Sam walked on tiptoes, be as quiet as he could. He took the key under his kidnapper’s pillow, tried to make as little movement as possible. He didn’t want Dean to awake and catch Sam red-handed.

He made a beeline for the door, tried not to make any noises. He reached his destination safely. But before he could open the door, the younger man found himself pinned to it. That when Sam knew he was done.

“Where do you think you’re going, boy?” Dean growled dangerously but softly against his ear. God, why did he love to do this to him, talking in his ear, it was nothing but sexual and gave him shiver every time Dean did that.

“Let me go, you...” Sam screamed, but soon found a hand covered his mouth, stopping his words. He attempted to bit his hand, but was stopped by the agony as Dean’s free hand reached out and pulled his hair back painfully.

“Guess you don’t need my permission to let you walk around freely anymore,” Dean smirked, like a predator to his prey. Sam has never seen it but he bet on everything he had that Dean wore this smirk whenever he ended someone’s life.

Before Sam could process what’s just happened, Dean threw him on the bed as if the man was a rag doll. With lightning speed, he jumped on top of him, turning him so Sam’s terrified face was facing him. Dean roughly pulled his arm to the bedpost, carefully tied his wrist to it.

Sam twisted and buckled when the other man pinning him to the mattress. Struggling to get out.

“Let go of me, you sick fuck!” He cried out in pain as his wrist was taken care of. His other hand tried to push the serial killer of. But he failed as the pain blinded him. Before he knew it, one of his wrists was secured.

Sam was being such a bitch. This made Dean even angrier. Sam did this to himself, he was in no position to order him like that. 

As he tried to do the same thing to his other wrist, Sam fought harder than earlier, like a wild dog.

“No! No! Stop! Stop it! Don’t!” The younger man cried so hard Dean thought he wouldn’t be able to talk the next day. Dean worried his companion would wake everyone up if he didn’t gag him. But there was nothing available for him. 

Dean finished tied his other wrist. But Sam continued to cry, throwing insults at him. God, so fucking annoying. But then, there was no crying anymore, only silence. A blow hit him hard in the cheek.

Dean slapped him.

Crying turned into sobbing. Sam felt tears rolling down his cheeks. The part of the skin Dean just slapped burned uncomfortably. Sam was scared, not because the other man’s just hurt him, but because of his cruelty and merciless acts. What would he do next? Abusing him? Or worse, adding him to his victim list? Dean’s made his point he wouldn’t hurt him, but the man himself broke that promise. Because why not? He was a psychopath. He chose victims and ended their life like they were just ants. Why did Sam think he was any different from them?

With that thought, he whined. While struggling, he pulled his wrists so hard he was afraid it would draw blood. Now, every movement, even the little one hurt them. They might’ve broken the skin already, or leave some scars which made him remember this day whenever he looked at them, if he even makes it out of this nightmare.

Sam was sobbing. That wasn’t good. Dean was fuck now. He thought they would make great companionship, that they would just laugh at random things like good friends and treating each other like brothers, not like this. Now Sam hated him, or worse, terrified of him.

“You did this to yourself,” he firmly told him, face showing no emotions, “start taking responsibility for what you do from now.”

God, he felt like a jerk now. Dean kinda felt bad when he hit the man like that. It left mark on him, and Dean didn’t want to hurt that pretty face of Sam.

“Sleep. We’re leaving tomorrow,” he tried to keep his cold face, “I expect no disobedience. This was just a warning, Sam. Next time, I won’t go easy on ya.”

Dean hid his emotions under the mask of his skin. Even felt bad for Sam, he wouldn’t admit, not even for himself. He was a cold-blooded murderer, for God’s sake! Why did he felt guilty when hurting Sam? He never did before.

As he finished scolding, Dean hopped on his bed. He tried to sleep as the guilty devoured him slowly. Maybe he should make up with the man tomorrow, shouldn’t he?

Did Sam just prove himself he was Dean’s downfall? Or did Dean was too vulnerable and emotional around the man?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no... what did you do, Dean?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this instead of sleeping :”))

“No dad! Stop!”  
“Shut up, boy! After everything you did, you think you could order me like that?!”

Pain. That was what he remembered. He hurt him again. Every day. Living in nothing but agony. It wasn’t his fault that she was dead. He didn’t kill him! So why was he kept telling him that?

“You killer!” the other man barked, “I should’ve kill you when you was a child. A scrub like you do not deserve to live!”  
——  
Dean jerked off his dream. Another nightmare? He thought it was over. He got up, realized that his shirt was sweat soaked. He signed. Looked over the room, he saw Sam was sleeping restlessly, a hint of tears decorated his beautiful face. A wave of guilt hit Dean again. Nauseously and ugly.

He looked at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. 5:00. Only one more hour and they could start leaving.

Dean walked to the bathroom, trying not to make any sound. Sleeping like that, Sam could wake up at every time. It was better to let the younger man rest while he still can. 

He closed the door, waited for the water to heat up as he stripped out of his clothes. Scars glittered from every part of his body, evilly reminded him of how fuck up he was. Despite hating him, Dean still thankful the man hadn’t touch his face. If he was, Dean had to look at them every time he looked at the mirror. And living like that was so uncomfortable and sad.

When he got out of the bathroom, he noticed Sam was awake and was trying to free himself. A fool move. The ropes only cut his skin more.

“Hey! Hey!” He grabbed the man’s arm, “Cut it out.”

Sam whimpered, stopped immediately. He didn’t want to piss his kidnaper off, he couldn’t imagine what would happen if he did that.

He looked at Dean through teary eyes, preparing to take the violence the serial killer about to throw at him.

But to his surprise, Dean didn’t hit him, instead, he felt the bondage restraining him was gone. Confusedly, he looked at his wrists, whimpering as he saw the red rings around them.

God, Dean promised he won’t hurt him. Now he broke that promise. Even it was Sam’s fault he did that, but still, the serial killer felt the urge to make up with him.

“We gotta go, Sam,” he smiled, “I’ll get you your favorite salad in the diner last night, eh?”

He raised his hand to touch him (Not in a sexual way, just his way to tell his companion he meant no harm), but he had to retrieve when Sam flinch away, like a scared animal.  
——  
Sam was confused as well as scared. Just yesterday Dean was on his “full-time predator”, now he was being soft with Sam? What the hell?! Sam didn’t know was there anything up his sleeve, or it was just his way to told everyone “you’re forgiven”?

They were at the diner. Sam was watching Dean’s every movement to make sure he wasn’t up to something. Dean sat in the opposite seat of Sam, mouth chewing the burger on his hands, fries next to his dish.

Dean was starring at Sam in a not-so-creepy-way. With his companion looking so quiet and not flashing his signature bitchface like this, he started noticing things:  
1.Sam’s character split in two. The first one was the sarcastic man who didn’t care about what others think of him. The one who dare to make bold decisions, even if it leaves him with bad consequences, like his failed escape. The second one was the shy and sweet one. The one who was in control of Sam right now. He was the lovable man. Blushed heavily when someone complimented or flirted with him.  
2.Dean realized he might have fall in love with both characters.

This was so wrong. Dean had a number-one rule: no fall in love with your victims, even if your current one was your partner. And Dean knew about all the “killer fell in love with his prey” shit. He was not going to fall in that mistake.

“Can I... Can I go to the bathroom?” Sam nervously asked, scared that he might anger the man. To his surprise, Dean nodded. To be honest, Sam was surprised at his surprise at Dean’s unexpected reaction. The serial killer wouldn’t hurt him when Sam asked for his needs. Unless Dean found out the younger man make that as an excuse to runaway.

Sam asked for his permission to pee. He must’ve been hard on him. Dean needed to fixed this, needed to show him he was no danger to him. After all, Sam was taken to be his companion.  
——  
Sam was fighting between the urge to come back to Dean and the desire to climb out of the bathroom window and run. This was his first and maybe his last chance to escape without him knowing. Every serial killer knew best not to make a scene in public, even when his “companion” was somewhere outside and must’ve gone to the cops by now. But Sam didn’t want to risk. This was his life, it wasn’t worth doing this. And Dean promised he wouldn’t go easy on Sam if he caught him try to flee. 

Knock! Knock!

The sound of hand hitting on the surface of the door pulled him out of his thought. Looking at it, Sam wondered if the man had heard his thoughts and now here to punish.

“Sam? What took you so long?” Dean asked, his voice showing no emotions.

Sam told himself if he didn’t open the door, all hell would break loose. 

“Finish your meal. We’ll hit the road soon.” Dean told him as soon as Sam went out the bathroom.

When Sam went out to take a piss, Dean started making a plan in order to make up with the younger man. But when Sam took too long, Dean couldn’t help but worried. He might have run off already. And he couldn’t do the make up plan for Sam without Sam. 

It was funny, that Dean was afraid of Sam’s absence instead the man might have tell the police information about him. If it was, he hoped Sam mention the Night Hunter was handsome, because it was the truth.

But after all, he was relieved Sam was there and hasn’t gone anywhere.

As he made his way back to their seat, Dean noticed Sam wasn’t there near him. Looking back, he saw the man didn’t follow him, instead he was looking at something. No, someone. Since the people were the only things that spelled “interesting” in here. He swore if it was someone...

A family.

It was a family. The normal-looking one. The father, the mother, the child, or children, in plural. The father was playing with his giggling son, while the mother was trying to feed her younger daughter food, as she protested. They were so happy. A happy family, with nothing but joy and teddy bears and...

Love.

When he was young, Dean was jealous at kids his age. How can they have such good daddies who always cared about them and mommies who always asked them “Are you hungry, darling?” How can they...

Wait! What was he thinking? Why bringing the past here? It shouldn’t be here, in present.

“Sam, c’mon.” He called Sam, successfully caught his barely there attention. They walked to the table and finished the food.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s make up plan. There are fluff and, I hope you don’t might a little angst. ^^

The sun went down. The sky was painted with the color of purple and midnight blue, like a beautiful painting. Stars twinkled, glittering across the painting. So beautiful, so perfect for the make up plan. “Oh, I’m so smart!” That was what he’s been replaying in his head. He knew people like Sam. Hell, he knew a guy who got the closest personality like his companion. Why “closest”, you might ask? Because Dean thought it was annoying. And Sam’s was not. Everything about him was perfect, even the bitchy personality of his. Maybe that was the reason why Sam wasn’t added to his victim list like the said guy.

Baby ran on the empty street. Her engine running was the only sound right now. Looking next to him, Sam slept peacefully at the passenger seat, head resting on the window. In his sleep, Sam was different. No sign of the previous fear was showed on his face. He was so beautiful, made Dean want to reach out and touch his face, caress it lovingly. But he couldn’t, because they would get in an accident, and the thought of being killed in a fucking car crash just because Sam was beautiful was so humiliating compared to the fact Dean was a serial killer. 

Or was it just an excuse for Dean not to touch and accidentally scared the man?  
——  
“None! We got none!”  
“Calm down, Gabriel. This isn’t the first time we got stuck dead end in a case?”

What was Cas thinking? This wasn’t a normal case. How can he calm down when it’s been two days and they still couldn’t find anything useful. They checked Sam’s house, the neighborhood, the cameras. And find none! The Night Hunter must’ve known his way around here. He was careful not to let himself be shown, or be noticed, except Sam. What could Gabriel say? He was responsible for 16 murders. 

The dead end was the least, that wasn’t the worst scenario. Sam might still alive. Freak out, but alive. They just needed time to catch this son of a bitch. They couldn’t let this monster roam freely anymore. Especially after he thought messing with their woman was a good idea.  
——  
“Sammy, wake up.”  
“Hmm...”

God, how could he be so cute! Dean fought the urge to touch him, but it started to become an impossible task.

“Are we... there?” Sam asked sleepily, he was so tired the only thing he was right now was to crash on the bed and sleep until sunrise.

“The motel? It could wait. C’mon, I got something for you.” 

“Where are we?” Sam asked when they went outside. 

There was nothing he could see. Only an empty floor made of grass and an enormous sky. A starry night. Winds rosed on his body, caressed his skin coldly. What a beautiful night!

“Beautiful, eh?” Dean broke the silence, “I figured you might like watching the stars.”

“What’s the occasion?” Sam asked when they settled on the hood of the Impala.  
“Huh?”  
“You don’t usually drag me outside and stars gazing, What’s the occasion?”  
“Just thought you might like it,” Dean answered, faking a disappointed look, teasing the younger man, “guess I was wrong.”

With that, he jumped out of the hood, pretending to be hurt by Sam’s reaction.

“No. No. I like it.” Sam panicked when the serial killer was about to get in the car, it wasn’t like he could go out like this. And he had to take the opportunity whenever he did.

“I know.” Dean grinned, back to his previous seat next to Sam.

Resting his head on his hands, Dean enjoyed the view of nature. Never has he thought he is here watching the stars, nor doing it with someone like Sam. It wasn’t bad at all, he was kinda like it. He should do this more often. With Sammy, of course.

Oh, and that smell. Strawberry shampoo! He knew it was a good idea to brought that. Sam smelled nice. And his hair. How can he grow it like that? He wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

“Sam, you’re killing me,” Dean grunted, breaking the comfortable silence Sam made.  
“Huh?... What do you mean?”  
“Your hair, the freaking shampoo you use. How can that be so beautiful?!”  
“So that’s what bothered you?” Sam chuckled. Oh my god! He chuckled! He finally chuckled after a long freaking time! How long was it? Oh, yeah, eternity long! And the happy sound he made was like music to Dean’s ears. He should make him laugh more often.

“You’re weird,” Sam commented.

“So, you’re not afraid of me anymore?” Dean suddenly changed the subject.

Silence. Sam didn’t say anything. God, seemed like it wasn’t great asking him that.

“No... I’m still a little bit afraid of you,” Sam confessed after a long time, “You’re a serial killer and I’m just... helpless compare to you.”

Dean was quiet. Did he say something wrong? It was quite inappropriate, to be honest. What if Sam pissed Dean off again?

“Fair enough,” Dean said casually, fingers ghosting Sam’s face but then stopped abruptly when he felt Sam tensed under his touch.

Ow. Why did he do that? That was a mistake!

To his surprise, Sam didn’t flinch away, nor showed any sign of fear. He guessed Sam finally made himself comfortable around Dean. Or he tried to. As if he could hear Sam’s permission, he continued his affection, figuring the other man didn’t mind at all.

Maybe he was him, or maybe it wasn’t, but Dean thought he might have a crush on Sam. Yeah, no big deal! He knew he was bisexual. And Sam wasn’t bad at all. But he wasn’t going to admit it, even to himself. Like he said before, no fall in love with your victims or your companion.

They laid there in the dark, for a while, enjoying each other company. Starring at the dark blue sky, swallowing the beauty of the stars and the way the chilly air danced around them, forgetting about the time until one of them fell asleep.  
——  
“Dean. Dean. Wake up.” Sam’s voice was quiet, loud enough for him to hear.

Dean stirred in his sleep, his face was restless, as if he was experiencing waves of unbearable pain.

“Dean! Dean!” Sam’s voice was worried, panicked.

Dean snapped open his eyes, breathing heavily. When did he let the slumber and tiredness took over? Alone outside with Sam? Unbelievable!

“What happened?” Sam asked, worriedly, mother hen mode turned on.

Nightmare. That was what happened. He was grateful Sam pulled him out just in time. The old man turned crazy this time and the beating was more violent than previous.

“Nothing,” he answered, drawing a fake smile to convince Sam he was fine. He didn’t buy that.  
“No, Dean. There was something! You were whining in your sleep!”  
“What? No. That doesn’t sound like me at all,” he denied, “get in the car. I’ll find a motel and we get some rest.”  
“Dean...”  
“Just get in.”

Dean drove away, back facing at the breath-taking view. Sam was not supposed to know about his past. It was unnecessary, anyway. But due to the amount of worry drawing on the younger man’s face and the way he whined in his goddamn nightmare, soon or later, Dean had to tell Sam about it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story continued, now in Sam’s POV.

Sam pulled himself out of the slumber. Opening his eyes, slowly devouring the small rays of sunshine slit through the gap between two curtains. Looking at himself, he realized he still wore the same clothes the other night. Sam was surprised he could be able to sleep deeply when in an uncomfortable outfit. What could he say? You learn new things every day.

Last night was exhausted. He remembered fell asleep in the car, then Dean dragged him out in an open field and they stargazing. That was nowhere near to the word “bad”, but it was weird, watching the stars next to a serial killer. And then some times later, he was snoring beside. Sam didn’t know why but he decided to stay and not run away when he had the chance. Guess the Night Hunter had put a spell on him or something.

And then, strange things started to happen. Dean tossed uncontrollably, whining, begging someone to stop. Sam had to wake him up to dragged him out of his nightmare. The younger man wanted to know what was wrong with him, but he played dumb. 

Trauma, he figured. Now, the first thing he knew when dealing with this kind of situation, was to leave the person alone. If Dean didn’t want to talk about it, then he just ignored him. There would time when he opens up to him.

Sam understood it because he used to be tortured by the trauma itself.

“Morning, Sammy.” He greeted as the younger man stepped out of his morning shower. 

“Last night was good, eh?” Dean tried to distract Sam from his weird behavior the night before, “I should have brought some beers, double joy!”

Guess what, Dean? You fucked it up. Sam still didn’t buy it.

“We should get going.” Sam changed the awkward subject.  
“Ok,” Dean grinned.  
——  
Sam had no idea how could a murderous killer like Dean suffered from such a horrible trauma. Maybe that was what drove him insane and turned the innocent boy into a killing machine?

“What are you looking at? Is there something on my face?”

Dean questioning face made Sam realized he was starring at the other man for the past minutes. God, who was the perv now?

Sam made an awkward smile, shaking his head slightly. Great job Sam. He mentally facepalmed himself.

“Mommy, can I go to Lizzie’s party? It’s her birthday today!”  
“Of course, darling. But we need to eat something first. I’m sure she’ll wait for us.”

A child’s voice, and then the mother spoke. Now, don’t get him wrong. He didn’t get arouse whenever there was this family-kind-of conversations. He just like to observe. Like when you go to the coffee shop, wanting for your besties and forget to bring a book to read while waiting for him. You then watch people walking around the area, trying to listen to their stories. It wasn’t voyeurism, you just like to do that to wash away the boredom.

Sam enjoyed this kind of activity, too. Listening to their casual conversations, watching at how lucky the children were when they talked to their parents. Of course, he sometimes saw they arguing with them. But that was normal. The children were still so lucky when they had a family, even if they didn’t realize it.

“Sam, Sammy. Are you still there or you flying somewhere?” Dean cut out his thought, taking fully control of the younger man’s attention.

“Huh?”  
“You kinda distracted these days. What? Looking for chicks?” He grinned.  
“What? Dean?”  
“Anyway, I wanna go for a drink. Whaddo you say, d’you wanna go to the bar tonight?” Dean suggested.

“Is that a question or an order?”  
“A question. But if you don’t, you can stay in the car,” he shrugged, “Problem solved!”

Sam grinned. Dean was unbelievable. But he wasn’t complaining. It’s been so long since the last time he went to the bar. School works didn’t allow him to engage in that kind of activities.

“Sure, I’ll go.” Sam answered with a wide smile, dimples showing.  
“Awesome!”  
——  
“Here it is.”  
They went to the bar at the countryside, seated opposite of the highway. The light was so freaking light you could see it from afar. 

Dean drove the car to the parking lot. “She’s precious, isn’t she,” was the first thing Dean said as he patted the hood of the car lovingly. Sam knew about his unusual love he gave for the car, talking to it as if it was the love of his life.

“Two beers for me and my lovely companion.” He called out the bartender as they stepped in the bar. 

Sam looked around the bar. There was a group of guys talking loudly and playing pool. Some groups of friends he didn’t bother to listen to their conversations. A few teenagers definitely were too young to be here. Some people looked for partners to hook up with. Nothing interesting. 

Dean gave him the beer bottle as he took his. He poured a huge amount of the liquid in his mouth, sighed in satisfaction as he tasted the burn of the alcohol.

“Don’t you suppose to drive later?” Sam calmly reminded.  
“Yes mom. Did I mention I’m a master at handling these shit? Plus, there’s a motel nearby, no need to worry about sleeping in the car.  
“It’ll be better if you just let me drive.”  
“Yo, dude! What? Baby isn’t just an object for you to say like that. And I won’t allow you that, she’s precious!”

Sam chuckled, but to be honest, he believed Dean wouldn’t kill themselves in a car crash. He knew him.

Suddenly, he felt a hand pressed on his thigh. Oh, great. A perv who think he was so cool but he was just a perv. He glared at the one sitting next to him, flashing his best bitchface to told him to fuck off.

“Hey baby. D’you have a moment?” 

It was a man in his forties. A regular member in the gym. He wore this filthy smirk he thought it would be flirty, but Sam just want to smash that smirk off.

“He’s with me, mister.” Dean came to the rescue, the word “mister” escape his mouth wasn’t formal, but was full of sarcasm and disgust. 

“What? With him? This guy?” The guy said, “The name’s Phil and I’m sure I’m way better that him, especially in the bed.”

“Nobody cares about your name, asshole,” Sam finally raised his voice, “I don’t give a fuck about you or your stupid skill in bed or your stupid lame-ass flirt. I said no, and fuck off! Go find someone else, you perv!”

Phil looked at him annoyingly, surprised at Sam’s response. He turned to leave, mouth mumbling “crazy bitch” on his way. Called “mumbling” but Sam thought he purposely spoke loud enough for Sam to hear.

“Wow, Sam!” Dean complimented playfully, “Didn’t know you could be that badass!”

Sam laughed softly.

“We need to celebrate this,” he applauded, “Bartender, two more, please.”  
“Dude, knock it off,” Sam complained, although the smile on his face told a different thing, “I don’t know if you’re being sarcastic or not.”  
——  
An hour later and we saw a tipsy Dean playing pool in the center and a happy and kinda drunken Sam watching him from afar. Sam used to wonder how did he earn money as the man was jobless. Now he understood why. Dean was a master in playing pool. 

“Hey Sammy,” Dean called as he approached him, “we should call it a night, I got enough money for us all.”

The man flashed him the money he earned, face lit up like a child who just won a contest of some kind.

“You go to the car, I’ll catch you up later,” he suggested, “gotta do some business. Hehe!”

As Dean finished, he looked at the WC sign in the corner for Sam to see.

Oh.

“Ok.” Sam smiled, “go do your ‘business’.”

He made his way outside the bar. Feeling the fresh air crashed into his face as he exited. He walked to parking lot, ready to head to the motel Dean mentioned earlier. He swayed a bit, figuring he must’ve drunk too much. Sam didn’t usually go to the bar or party, and his inability to handle the alcohol was one of reason why he didn’t.

But when he thought he almost there to the Impala, he found himself pinned to the wall, where no one could see through the windows and not enough light to reveal him. 

Being pinned like this, face facing the hard surface in front of him, Sam couldn’t see the creep behind him. But that wasn’t his worry any longer as the man revealed himself with that familiar and annoying voice:  
“Didn’t expect to see you here, sweetheart.”  
“Let me out, you fucker!”  
“Now that wasn’t nice, baby,” Phil gritted his teeth, “You kiss your mom with that mouth?”

Sam struggled, fighting for freedom. But before he could push the man out, he felt the agony as fingers tugging painfully at his hair, pulling his neck back so far he thought it might break at any moment. God, why did psychopaths love tugging his hair so much? It was still recovered from the damage Dean did days ago. He thought it could rest now. Guess he was wrong.

“Baby boy, I wanted to fuck you hard since you entered the bar. But your fucking annoying boyfriend got in the way,” Phil tsked, he released Sam’s hair, instead holding the poor man hip, his other hand pulled out a pocket knife Sam didn’t realize he brought it and hold it just slightly against his throat, threatening there was no use fighting.

“You got two choice: a) fucking enjoy it or b) don’t,” he chuckled softly, “isn’t that cool?”

Sam shivered as a hand unzipped his zipper, teasing the outside of his boxers. Sam shivered, trying to hold back the whimper. He knew this day would come, but he never thought he would end up in this fuck up situation, pinning to the wall, being assaulted by some creepy stranger.

Maybe this was the “perks” of traveling with Dean.

The hand worked it way inside, stroking his erection. Sam breathed heavily, heart thumping loudly in his chest. Maybe he should beg, should try to pull out some mercy place deeply in the beast behind him.

But before he could do something, the sound of sharp blade cutting through flesh shocked him. The next thing he realized was the feel of sticky liquid soaked at the fabric on his back. Fear rosed in him, overwhelmingly, that he didn’t realize the hand was gone. He closed the zipper, still shocked at how the situation twisted into this. Sam tried to calm down, controlled his breathing, as he turned his head to look at his savior.

Dean.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued in Sam’s POV. A little fluff at the end :))

Dean. Bloody and furious as hell. Standing there with a knife covered in blood. The body of Sam’s rapist lying behind the younger man, lifeless and unmoving for good. A deep cut danced across the bastard’s throat, gagging his every attempt to use his mouth.

“You okay, Sammy?” Dean turned to him, rage quickly turned to worry.  
“Yeah... yeah.”

“I’ll clean up this mess”, he pointed at the body in hatred, “you get in the car and change your clothes, I keep your bag in the backseat.”  
——  
They drove in silence. Sam didn’t talk at all. He still tried to breathe in the way the situation just turned out to be. And what should he throw at Dean after this? Hatred? Gratefulness? Fear? He didn’t know. It wasn’t like people kill for each other every day.

Dean accidentally shut his tired eyes a few times, giving Sam a heart attack. He tried to keep him awake, making a conversation, touching his shoulder, anything. He failed. But thankfully, they arrived at the motel just in time before they risk their lives in a stupid accident.

“Hey, umm, Sam...” Dean drunkenly told him, thrusting cash into the man’s palm, “you go there and book us... us a room.”

That was... unlike usual. What was the word...? Oh, unusual! Right. The fear and the alcohol almost stole his ability to use words. Anyway, Dean wasn’t the kind of man who let him book a room. But Sam didn’t question, he did as the serial killer told.

Oh.

He understood now. Dean was unbelievably smart. 

“So good to be somewhere private,” Dean stretched his arms as they finally got in the room.

“I told you to book ‘cause you didn’t have anything to accuse me. That’s why I told you to change your clothes,” Dean grinned, pointing a finger at his head, “when you’re a serial killer, you have to have a plan. Hehe.”  
“I know.”  
“Huh...”

Dean changed into a pair of clean boxers and tee-shirt, tossing his blood-soaked clothes into a black plastic bag, burying it deep inside his duffel bag.

“I’ll wash it later. Or if the blood decides to stay on, I’ll get rid of it.” He said, more to Sam than to himself.

“I’m giving you tips in case you want to kill someone, Sam,” Dean drunkenly joked, “so take notes.”  
“You’re drunk. Please... go to sleep.”

Dean gave Sam a happy grin. “Yeah. I think I’ll go... to sleep” was all he said before the man crashed onto the bed and snored not long after.  
——  
Sam found himself tossing restlessly. It was a challenge trying to rest. Turning his head to Dean’s sleeping form, he wondered how could the man sleep so easily like he wasn’t taking away someone’s life. 

Maybe Sam just needed something, or someone in this case.

“Dean, Dean.”  
“Hmmm...?”  
“I can’t sleep.”  
“Then try to.”

Dean slowly opened his eyes, looking at Sam confusedly.

“What?”  
“I... I knew this is... weird,” Sam explained, “but can we... cuddle?”  
“How old are you? Five?”

He didn’t like it. It was fine, Sam thought he could manage one night. The human body can survive without sleep for a few days, but it was going to hate him for tortured it.

He dragged his tired body back to his bed. He laid there and closed his eyes, wondering how couldn’t he sleep despite the alcohol? Maybe it was because of the incident.

Suddenly, a strong arm draped over his waist, holding his chest like when he first kidnapped Sam, but only this time it wasn’t forceful and violent, but gentle and lovingly.

“At least next time book a king damnit,” Dean’s voice was murmured beside his ear.

Sam smiled softly. He didn’t know the Night Hunter had a soft side. God, he felt like a teenage girlfriend.

Dean pulled the blanket, covering their bodies. His warmth gave Sam comfort, his touch gave his mind motivation to rest for while.

“Hold me tight,” Sam whispered.  
“I won’t let you go, Sammy.”

As he sank deep into unconsciousness, he found himself fell in love with the dangerous serial killer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this one was long.

They’ve been driving all morning. The duo left the motel about four in the morning, which mean they only sleep for four freaking hours or so. As soon as Sam woke up, Dean’s already packed things up. He urged Sam to get prepare to hit the road.

“Quickly Sammy! We have to be faster than the cops!” was the first thing he heard.

Sam thought something was different about Dean. He didn’t wake him like he supposed to be. The serial killer was in a hurry, after all. Now, Sam didn’t necessarily do as Dean told. His name wasn’t on the wanted list. But he didn’t do it. Not because he was afraid of Dean...

He cared about him.

That was what he realized as the younger man throwing his clothes in the duffel bag. Speaking about “care”, he remembered Dean’s nightmare (maybe, nightmares). He knew he shouldn’t push Dean, but hiding it inside his mind was worse.

Now, as the wheels rolling on the lonely street in the middle of nowhere, Sam thought it was best to question the other man.

“Dean,” Sam asked, “remember the first time we went stargazing?”

Dean raised his eyebrows as a “yes”, eyes still on the road.

“Well, I noticed you had a nightmare. So I thought, ... maybe it’ll get better if you just... you know... share it with me?”

God, that was hard! He didn’t expect asking a simple thing like that was so hard to come out of his mouth.

“Hmm, yeah,” Dean answered casually, but his eyes hinted a little bit of displeasure, “I’ll talk about it later, Sammy. I need to get us to a safe place.”  
“Dean, we’ve been driving for hours!”

“I know,” Dean explained, “but we have to get as far away as possible. Me staying in the area near the bar was already risky! The polices could get my ass before I know it. They’re probably at the crime scene right now. I didn’t hide the body carefully enough like I usually did, it was an unplanned murder, after all! I didn’t plan to kill him. And there was the alcohol in me, I wasn’t thinking straight!”  
“You... said like as if it was my fault...”

What? He did? Oh shit! No. He didn’t mean to blame it on Sam.

“Sorry, baby... It wasn’t like what you thought. I was just...”  
“Called me ‘baby’?” Sam interrupted, his hurt face was replaced by astonishing.  
“No? I said Sammy.”  
“No. You said baby.”

“Ah...” Dean was speechless, face turned to red. He couldn’t see it but he bet Sam was nervously smiling right now.

Maybe it wasn’t the alcohol that told him to kill the bastard, it was love.  
——  
The shorter detective showed up not long after he got a call.

“Hello, Cassie! Surely you did find some useful information before I arrived, eh?” Gabriel greeted Cas with confidence, as if he was the one who came first.

“Yeah. Some useful ones which could help us with the case.”  
“I know. You couldn’t just drag me to the middle of nowhere to bullshitting, am I right?”

Gabriel saw a scared young teenage girl who sneaked into the bar. How old was she? Sixteen? Definitely underage.

“Oh, she was the one who found the body,” Cas explained as he saw his partner’s gaze, “she shouldn’t be here in a place like this. But I owe her thanks.”

“Huh? Was that all? Did you interrogate her? What’s make you think this will help us?” Gabriel attacked Cas with a thousand questions.

“Yes. That was all. The victim was Phil Kelly, who was accused of sexual assaults some times before, but the bastard always got away with it,” Cas added, and he ended with a smirked, “Guess he got what he deserved.”  
“And the cameras?”  
“No, didn’t get anything, but we do have something useful. That’s why I called you to get here.”

Cas leaded Gabriel to a room which he knew from the look of it was where the owner of the bar see the activities of his customers through cameras.

He sat before the scene, playing the video. It was normal until Cas skipped into a random part. He paused.

“Sam was here,” the trench-coated detective pointed at a man sitting by the counter. Phil Kelly sat beside him, hand on the poor man’s thigh.

“He wasn’t supposed to be here,” Cas added, “unless the kidnapper forced him to.”  
“Yeah. And Mr. Handsome on his left was suspicious. Better pay attention to him, and if my theory is correct,” he winked, “he is the Night Hunter.”  
——  
“I know a place for us to stay,” Dean said, “It’s somewhere here, I think.”

They were somewhere in the woods. They had to stop for food, so Sam wouldn’t bitching about the danger of staving yourself and Dean wouldn’t complaining about his inability to eat “rabbit food”. Yeah, they all had their need.

“Here it is, Sammy,” Dean announced as he killed the engine, “our new home, or temporary home, whatever.”

It was a small cabin, big enough for one to two people. And since Sam trusted Dean, he believed they were deep inside the woods, surrounded by trees and trees, with no one around to disturb them.

Sam and Dean stepped into the cabin. There were a king-sized bed in the far corner, a small kitchen area, a table with two chairs, a dusty fireplace that hasn’t been used in ages. There was a shelf in a corner, seated opposite of the bed, decorated by spider webs and dust, holding some things. There were also a couch and a TV, both of them covered in dust, too.

“Oh, I haven’t gone here for ages!” Dean giggled, “miss you so much!”

“Just need to clean up and it will be as romantic as you like, Sam!” He beamed, handing his companion a broom. Sam took it without complaint.

“When you said you haven’t been here for ages, you mean...” Sam asked.  
“I’ve been here before, this was my parents’.”  
“Oh... This place means a lot to you, huh?”  
“Oh yeah,” Dean grinned, “Whenever I felt sad, I went here. My parents used to come here after they got married, so this place holds tons of memories about us.”

“I’ll hold memories about us, too,” Dean added cheerfully, “if you like.”

Sam smiled. That would be awesome!  
——  
Dean found himself starring at Sam whenever the younger man was busy cleaning up and wasn’t noticed his eyes on him. What the hell? He was acting like a shy teenager, this only happened in rom-com. 

Ok, he admitted. As he said before, Sam was cute, he was the attention of everyone whenever he stepped into a diner or some other places you can name. He got this beautiful hair that Dean couldn’t tell how did the man do that, take care of his hair, turn it into a masterpiece. Sam has this thing called “puppy eyes”, whenever he uses it, people do as he wishes. He hasn’t used it on Dean yet but he hoped Sam would, someday. Not to mention his round, perky ass everyone wanted to have a bite of.

But he didn’t love him because of his body, if this feeling he had towards Sam was love. He loved him because of his... of his what? Dean realized he didn’t know. But he swore it wasn’t lust. He would’ve tackled him and raped the younger man as Sam begged him to stop like he usually happened if it was. He started to be able to feel around Sam, first was guilt when he forcefully tied him to the bed, then the need to apologize. What the hell? He hadn’t felt these kinds of things since his first kill, so why now? Did he somehow got stuck in Beauty and the Beast? The Beast started to change when he met Belle, what if he got into shit like this? Dean mentally laughed at his own joke. But seriously, what was wrong with him?

Maybe it was time for Dean to man up and confessed his love not only to Sam, but to himself, too.  
——  
After two hours of cleaning and decorating (“Hey, Sammy! These scented candles still smell nice!”), they decided to call it a day and enjoyed the beautiful night behind the cabin.

“I didn’t know there was a lake.” Sam smiled in awe.  
“What can I say, it’s full of surprises” Dean chuckled.

They sat on a wooden quay beside the lake, feeling the cold air dancing around them. 

This was nice, the beautiful view, the chilly air that forced Sam and Dean to wear more warm clothes unless they planned to get sick. This was a perfect time and place for a confession.

“Sam, I... got something to tell you.”  
“Oh, right. About your promise.”  
“What promise?” Dean asked confusedly. He had no idea what was his companion talking about.  
“The nightmare. You promise you tell me when we got here.”

Oh, fucking nightmare. Screw it Sam, Dean just wanted to say: “I love you”! He didn’t give a shit about that. 

“Sam, I’ll tell you about it later, this wasn’t a good time.”  
“It is, Dean. The more you hide it from me, the more it’ll hurt you. It’ll be better if you tell me the whole story.”  
“What if I don’t?” Dean retorted in anger, “what the fuck is wrong with you?! My nightmare has nothing to do with you!”  
“I just worry about you,” Sam protested weakly, knowing he couldn’t win the other man, “I don’t want to see you suffer.”  
“Oh, yeah! Let’s talk about your family.”  
“What’s wrong with my family?!” Sam was surprised at the way Dean changed the topic.  
“I couldn’t find any fucking information ‘bout it. So you tell me. I guess something happened to you that you don’t want to talk about them.”  
“You stalked me?!”  
“Yes, I stalked you. Oh, and I knew every-goddamn-thing about you, but your family. So tell me about it! Or did you forget who kidnapped you in the first place?”

The man’s last words were like daggers stabbing Sam’s skin. It hurt. He didn’t expect Dean to brought out this subject, nor remind him of how they first met. He just wanted to help Dean, he didn’t want to anger him or get mentally hurt like this.

“You know what? Screw this! I’ll go to sleep. You won’t find me the next morning.” Sam threatened, unable to control his emotions.  
“If you run away, I’ll chop off your legs!”  
“You won’t,” Sam called out, voice shaking, tears threatening to fall out.  
——  
Cas’s been searching for Mr. Handsome for hours. He couldn’t be able to find any information about the man. No name, no phone number, no house address, nothing! It liked he just came out of thin air.

“I can’t find anything of this man,” Cas told his partner, “You were right, he’s suspicious.”  
“Finally, you admitted I was right about something.” Gabriel grinned.

“But seriously,” the shorter man admitted, serious mode on, “this handsome bastard is such a mystery.”

“I like him. Made the case even more exciting. It’s like we’re in a mystery movie, two detectives looking for a serial killer who took a poor man.”

Just when Cas thought his partner could be serious, he was wrong. But he didn’t correct him when Gabriel told it was the Night Hunter. Like it or not, Cas was convinced it was him.  
——  
Dean sat in the same position for how long he didn’t know. He lost track of time. Even when the night got colder, he still didn’t move. Judging by the way the freezing air messing with him, he figured it must be midnight, or almost midnight, or past midnight. One of them!

He didn’t mean to yell at Sam like that. The younger man was worried about him, he hadn’t done anything to deserve such a reaction like Dean’s. This was the second time he hurt Sam. First was physically, now was mentally. Both of them were awful.

He should apologize. After all, it wasn’t Sam’s fault.

He entered the cabin, walking to Sam as quietly as he could. He did that not because he didn’t want to wake him up. Sam was awake. Even if he was lying on the bed, unmoving. Dean only needed to look at the way he breathed and how shaking his voice was previously, he could tell if Sam was asleep or not.

“Sam, wake up...” Dean quietly called. 

Sam ignored him.

He was lying on his stomach, head resting on the pillow, so Dean couldn’t see his face. His mind told him the reason the younger man “sleep” like that was because he didn’t want Dean to see his tears. 

“Sam, Sam. C’mon man, I know you’re awake.”

Just when Dean was about to give up, Sam started talking. His voice was weak and quiet, like a whisper.  
“I’m still here, so there was no use chopping off my legs.”

Sam joked. If it wasn’t because of the guilt, Dean would laugh. But he couldn’t. Not when he saw Sam like this.

“I’m sorry, Sam. About earlier. I was an asshole. I shouldn’t yell at you like that.”

Dean said as he meant it. And he meant it. This wouldn’t be like last time, when he thought stargazing and chatting would solve the problem, when he got too much pride to give Sam a “I’m sorry”. This would be different. Sam might hate him, might not forgive him, but it was okay. At least Dean wouldn’t be a coward like last time.

Dean caressed Sam hair, slowly and lovingly, as a form to comfort the younger man.

“No, it... wasn’t your fault...” Sam finally said, after a long silence, “I shouldn’t... push you. It wasn’t easy to tell someone... your trauma. I know... I’m sorry.”

Dean was surprised at Sam’s respond. Just when he was about to prove Sam was wrong, that it wasn’t his fault, the younger man lifted his face, showing his red eyes and dry tears.

He was right. Sam hid his tears from Dean.

“Sit, please” he told Dean as he sat up, leaving room for the other man to sit next to him, “It was unfair to know about your past without you knowing about mine.”

Sam breathed in, collected all of his confidence.

“My family... they’re dead. That’s why I refused to talk about them. Because they’re not here anymore.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making you wait. I was busy, works in my way. And this chapter was hard to write to me. But I’m back!^^
> 
> This chapter might trigger some of you. So be careful.

“My family... they’re dead. That’s why I refused to talk about them. Because they’re not here anymore.”

Sam waited for Dean’s reaction. Anything. Sorrow, confusion,... But Dean stood his ground, refused to gave Sam a hint about how he felt when the younger man told him the truth. Knowing that he couldn’t stay silent forever, Sam continued:  
“I was only five. We were on our way home from my dad’s friend’s party, or someone’s party, I don’t remember. All I recall was the loud car honks, my mom’s scream, and my little sister’s cry... It was horrible...”

Sam stopped for a moment to calm himself down. Not right now, Sam! Too much crying in a day.

“I thought I was dead. But then, I woke up, greeted by the lights of the hospital. Someone, I think it was the doctor, told me my whole family was dead, all of them, and I was the only one who survived... I couldn’t believe it, I was a normal child with a happy family, then the next thing I know,... I was an orphan. Just because some... drunk asshole decided to drive instead of calling a fucking cab!”

Sam felt wetness on his face. Dean’s hand gently wiped it out, his other hand resting on his back, comforting him. The other man’s touch calmed Sam down, so he could be able to continue the story.

“Entered Bobby Singer, he was my mom’s best friend, also my godfather. When I met him for the first time since the accident, I was so happy. My world lightened up again. Yeah, I’d gotten some mental issues but they went as quickly as they came...”

Unexpectedly, Sam laughed. But it wasn’t the one guided by happiness. The laughter was forceful, sarcastic, and mixed with a hint of sadness.

“Guess I didn’t fit in the whole family stuff,” Sam said, “You know what happened next?”

“They took him away from me,” Sam continued, didn’t care if Dean was going to answer or not, “the thieves, Bobby was in their way, so they shot him. If he’s just ignored them, things wouldn’t have gone like this. I wasn’t there. Came to my friend’s...”

Sam stopped again, wiped the tears out of his face. Dean let him take his time. Recalling his childhood traumas, only emotionless dumbasses would find this thing as easy as eating cakes.

“I should’ve been there, helping him!” the emotions were out of the younger man’s control, he couldn’t help but sob, the words came out louder than before, “I don’t know, call 911, cry for help! But I was so selfish... I should’ve been there for him!”

He still remembered it. The time when he got home and saw the body. There were lots of people, all gathered around his house. The pain was so much, so much for him to handle it. Sam didn’t remember when did the tears fell out, but they did. Someone saw him crying and asked if he was okay. He ignored them. They all gave him these looks full of pity, wondering what would happen to the boy who had just lost his father. People told him “I’m sorry”, but nobody said “I’m here, Sam, just cry it out”. No one. The words were a form of curiosity, instead of the want to help him. Maybe they thought it was rude to not feel sorry for Sam? So those words came out as an instinct more than care? If only someone was there for him... He wouldn’t have suffered from the leftover of the loss of the man he cared so much like he used to, would he?

As Dean saw Sam was sobbing uncontrollably, harder and harder, he stopped his companion from talking. Dean wrapped his arms around him, drawing circles on his back lovingly. The younger man rested his head on Dean’s shoulder, trying to slow down his breath. Not long after, the spot was tear-soaked, but he didn’t care, Sam needed a shoulder to cry. And he gave him that, even if he accidentally wet the fabric there.

“And... the orphanage,” Sam said, face hiding in the same spot, “they didn’t treat me as if I was trash, but they didn’t see me as a son either... It was fine, I got no friends, I never saw myself fit in with those children. Eventually, I left the place where I called “home” when I hit 18. And the rest was what you saw while stalking me...

It was terrible, Dean. The mental issues, they came back! I got depression and anxiety chasing my ass! I was just a teen back there! Those were too much to bear! I’ve gone through countless therapies, they didn’t help! Sometimes I got these thoughts, that maybe... things would get better if I just... just kill myself!”

“Jess was there, luckily,” Sam continued, “she came to my life like a miracle... We studied in the same school, before college life. She was there, helped me get through this shit.”

The memories of her made Sam happy. Just the image of his girlfriend brought him pleasure. Whenever he felt down, he thought of her. God, he missed her so much! But he couldn’t blame Dean for taking him away from Jess, even if he wanted. Why? Maybe because of this stupid-ass love?

Did he just fall in love with the man? Was it called cheating if he didn’t mean to do it the first time? It was. After all, that was an excuse people gave whenever they started to lose interest in their supposed-to-be loved one.

Dean sat there, next to Sam. He felt bad for the man. Angry at himself for hurting him. His heart was damaged enough, he didn’t need more. 

Sam didn’t cry anymore. The tears were gone. He calmed down a bit, but the sorrow was still there, not much but still there. Sam pulled himself out of Dean’s embrace. His eyes looking somewhere, maybe not anywhere at all. It liked he was thinking about something, or someone.

Jess. 

Ahh, the girl. He didn’t like her at first. But after hearing the story, Dean changed his mind. Even if she was a pain in his ass, but Jess was the love of Sam’s life, and his savior.

That thought hurt Dean. He thought he could steal the man’s love, keep it for himself. He was wrong, so wrong. Sam didn’t love him, he never would. How could he be when Dean was the one who took him away, against his will? 

“Oh, I’ve just remembered,” Sam said, dragged Dean out of his thought after a long silence they shared, “what were you trying to say at the lake?”

“I love you”, that was what Dean trying to say. But after the previous event, he didn’t think he could be able to say that? Instead, he told him a different thing:  
“I think it is unfair for you to shared your story without me sharing mine.”  
“That wasn’t true. You...”

Sam was interrupted by what Dean was doing. He stood up and... stripped out of his shirts. Layers by layers, the warm jacket then the flannel fell down the ground, even the tee he usually wore underneath, until Dean was half-naked, his bare chest showing.

“Oh god! What happened to you?” Sam couldn’t help but gasp in horror. Dean’s skin was covered in scars and scars.

“Since you’ve been asking for this, I won’t hide it from you anymore,” Dean hop on the mattress, sitting next to the younger man, “But first, I needed to introduce myself, or reintroduced.”

Dean faked a smile. Why? Because he didn’t want to make Sam scared. His past to him was as ugly and terrifying as it was to him, what made Dean thought Sam could handle it? So, a little comedy wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Hi. My name’s Dean Winchester. I’m 27, four years older than you. I was born in Lawrence, Kansas. My precious possession is Baby. I would kill anyone if I found her was damaged, and...” he stopped for a bit, worked up all his courage to continue, “...this is my story.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a trip to Dean’s past, as we discover his past.
> 
> Though I didn’t wrote this in a very graphic way, but mindful that this chapter might trigger some of you.

The Night Hunter was a nightmare to the men, a monster to the women. He was ruthless, a cold-blooded creature. But a few years ago, the Night Hunter wasn’t like that. He was Dean Winchester, a young boy who had nothing special, a nobody. But how could an innocent child become a murderous, merciless serial killer? What happened to him?

It all started in 1979. Specifically, January 24th, 1979. John Winchester drove to the hospital as fast as he could. His wife sitting next to him, crying in pain as she felt the water broke. The baby in her belly begging to get out, to the outside world.

Doctors rushed to her as she was carried to the room. John was so nervous, he was going to be a father. He was going to teach his son everything he knew. He was going to play basketball with him every Sunday morning. He was going to teach him how to ride a bike. He was going to be the best father for his son.

He waited anxiously until a doctor came out. She got this feeling drawn on her face that John couldn’t tell what was it. But he didn’t care. Right now, all he wanted to know were his wife and their newborn baby okay.

“The baby is in good condition,” the doctor announced, but it was unusual for her to said a good thing in such a sad and hopeless tone, “but... Mr. Winchester, I’m sorry...”

John’s world shattered into millions of pieces at the shocking truth. His wife didn’t survive. The dream of a happy family, the uncreated memories of an afternoon with his Mary and his son was destroyed. 

Now, looking at the baby, he couldn’t help but secretly give him a disgusted look. No matter what the doctor told him, that the boy didn’t have to live a miserable life, that Mary would be happy if he treated him well, John only saw a killer, a murderer who had just killed his wife in cold-blooded.

His name was Dean, his son. That was what his wife said before the Reaper took her. At least John knew what to call this monster.  
——  
“Get your ass out of my sight!”

His daddy was drunk again. Things replayed over and over again, like a broken record. He went out, went somewhere to get drunk, and returned some hours later and throwing bad and hurtful words to his four-year-old son.

Why did daddy do this to him? He was a good son, he was never misbehaved, he did as he was told, never raised a question. So why did daddy treat him so badly? He kept calling him he was a monster, a killer. When he asked why did he call him that, the response he received was:  
“‘Cause That’s what you really are! ‘Cause you kill your own mother!”

But that made no sense. He was only a child, he would never kill someone. Why would he want to kill mommy? He loved her. And he wanted to meet her so bad.   
——  
He turned six. It was his first day in school. His daddy dropped him at the building and drove away. He didn’t say “take care” or “see you later, son” like the other daddies.

He was nervous. Be in a new environment with new strange people was so weird. But luckily, he made friends easily. The girls loved him, and some boys invited him to play in the playground.

The bell rang, school ended as children rushed out to their parents. As he walked to his daddy, he heard the other daddies and mommies asking their sons and daughters how was their day, did they make friends. His daddy said none. He didn’t even look at him. 

Did daddy love him? He did, right? Dean was his son. Daddy shouted bad things at him but it was an act of love, right? Daddy had his way to showed love. 

But if he loved Dean, why didn’t he treat him the other ones.  
——  
Dean was sixteen when he realized things about himself. He was bisexual, he was attracted to not only girls, but boys, too. He knew this as he caught himself staring at Paul McGrilly’s ass. The captain of the school football team, the boy who stole every teenage girl’s heart with his charming smile and fabulous hair.

He kissed girls before, even slept with them. They loved him, they wanted to eat him out. He loved to surround them. But he was nervous around men, especially men like Paul McGrilly. 

He was afraid his father would find out. He has seen the old man’s disgusted look when he looked at gay couples. He was homophobic, and Dean would be at his mercy if he even came out of the closet. 

But could he hide it forever?

McGrilly dragged him out in a lonely area of the school, hiding them away from the eyes of the students and teachers. He asked him what the hell was he doing. The only answer he received was a kiss on the lip. The kiss was nowhere near love, or passion, instead a little bit lustful as how McGrilly’s tongue fought for dominance, one of his hands grabbing his shirt while the other groping his ass.

Dean just let this happened.

He closed his eyes. The young Winchester was kinda enjoyed it.

Until he wasn't.

His father just so happened to be there at the moment. Dean didn’t know why the old man was there, at that time. Dean drove himself to school, and he could manage to drive back.

He was just there, standing in his hiding spot, outside of Dean’s view. He didn’t know what was waiting for him back at home until he got back.

Turn out, his father was out buying beers, and he accidentally saw Dean kissing a boy.

Fucking alcoholic!

That night, he screamed at top of his lungs, weeping at the leather of the belt slapping his back painfully.

That was the start of the violence his father made him suffered.  
——  
The physical abuse was more and more violent days by days. The pain was a poison, killing him slowly from the inside. And maybe the outside. Soon or later, things would get out of control. Either his father hit him too hard that he die from the pain or he killed himself. 

You might be asking why didn’t he try to call for help? He did. They came to his house, asking his father about Dean. Only they could save Dean from the old man, lock him away, put the alcoholic into jail, give Dean to a different family. Anything! He would accept everything as long as he didn’t have to live with his father.

But the old man got away with them. He didn’t know how, but the next thing he knew was the eyes of his father blinded by rage as he dragged Dean inside the basement and locked the door. 

He cried for his father to let him out, that he was sorry, that he knew his fault. But all his father did was shout at him, tell him to “shut the fuck up”. 

He stayed in the basement with no food, no hope. On second day, the door to the basement unlocked. But that wasn’t the end of the abuse.

When he turned seventeen, his father forced him to drop out of high school. After that, the older Winchester didn’t had to made excuses whenever Dean go to school with a bandaged hand or a bruised face. His father drank even more, and drunk John Winchester was never a good sign.

“No dad! Stop!”  
“Shut up, boy! After everything you did, you think you could order me like that?!”

Dean duck at the vase was through at him. Seeing his son dodged the object did nothing but increase the older Winchester’s anger. Before he knew it, he felt the agony in his head as his father pushed him forcefully to the wall.

He had to go to the hospital to treat the wound on his head. 

The things happened all the time. John hit him, Dean begged him to stop, John got angry and hit him harder. Some times, he gave Dean serious injuries that he had to go to the hospital. 

Two years like that. Two years living in nothing but the harsh words and physical abuse. He didn’t dare calling for help anymore, because the last time he did, it did nothing but hurt him more.

Two years...

... until he couldn’t take it anymore.  
——  
He was eighteen when it happened. His father passed out in the old man’s room after he’d beaten Dean up. The young man stood in the opposite of the bed, a gun in his hand. His emotions working on their own, he couldn’t control them. A tear slowly escaped at the corner of his eye, rolling to his cheek. He’d suffered enough, he’d gone submissive enough. He wouldn’t let his father hurt him again.

Bang!

Just a pressure to the trigger was enough for the older man to leave this world. The sound of the gun being fired was music to his ear, the dead body of his abuser was a treatment to his pain. He was free now. He could do whatever he wanted, he didn’t have to look out for any of the old man’s sudden hit, didn’t have to live in fear anymore. Now, he could run away with his future, yelling “fuck you” as he looked back at his past and pointing his middle finger to it.  
——  
After that night, the people in Lawrence, Kansas talking about the Winchesters, as how the son had to live with his abusive father, as how his freedom was taken and how he was forced to abandon his education.

Turned out, they knew. The polices knew all about it. They just couldn’t collect enough evidence to save the poor boy. John fucking Winchester was so good at tricking them.

But they were late. The Winchester’s house was burnt to the ground. What they found was the jerry can full of gasoline printed Dean’s fingerprints near the house. They were dead. The father and the son. Dean must’ve burnt himself alive, letting the fire swallowing him to rescue him from the overwhelmed pain he suffered from.

If only they knew...  
——  
“What can I do for you, baby boy?”

The man, Oliver Baum whispering softly in his ear, lustful eyes eating him out.

“Just a few thing, sir,” he smirked, dragging his hands over the other man’s chest seductively, “wonder if you could help me with those.”

He still remembered the day he killed his father, the day he set the house on fire. Oh, how he’d laughed when he watched the news, when they those the innocent Dean Winchester was dead. How stupid they were! What he did was faked his own death and now everybody believed he was gone.

He traveled all around the country, hustling pool, living with fake names and fucking everyone he found attractive, men and women. Just when he accidentally chocked a hooker to death when she was deep in the orgasm, he realized he experienced the satisfaction when he blew the old man’s freaking brain out. That was when he knew, he was born to kill. Dean hid in the shadow, looking for the perfect prey, luring them into the trap and ended their life. Depend on how they treated people around them, Dean would give them the pain they deserve. With some people, all he gave them was the minor injuries before they die, But some assholes, like this one in front of him, pinned him to the wall, he liked to make them suffered, feeling the same pain they gave to their victims.

Baum here was a cheater, a sexist and an abusive boyfriend. Now, when it came to abusive lovers and homophobics, Dean couldn’t help but draw a murderous smirk. Oh how poor people who were too prideful to admit everyone is the same! Male or female, straight or gay.   
——  
As he pulled out the dagger he kept under the mattress and pressed it dangerously against Baum’s throat, he was angry, telling him this wasn’t in their deal. Dean chuckled:  
“Oh, sugar! This isn’t the time for you to order me around like this. I’m the top, remember? I got my dick buried inside your fucking hole. I’m in charge, and I do whatever I want.”

He always like it when his preys realized they were at his mercy when they moaning in pleasure. Oh, how vulnerable people could be when they were blinded by the pleasant pain as Dean hit their sweet spot!

“Please! I had money. You don’t have to do this!”  
“Oh, I do! Why shouldn’t I? After all, you didn’t stop when your girlfriend asked you to. She was in pain, and you have to pay for that.”

When the sex was done and the man’s blood was all over the bad, soaking into the mattress, painting Dean’s skin red, he couldn’t help but chuckled excitedly as he took a look at the Baum’s lifeless face and scaredy eyes.

He such a psychopath.

Until Sam Wesson changed him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve just realized continued this story is harder than I thought. I’m running out of idea!

The two laid on the bed, trapping in each other arms. The sound of fire dancing in the fireplace was the only one breaking the long silence of the cold night. Sam stared at Dean’s sleeping face, taking in the beauty of the serial killer. He was so pretty. Freckles decorated across his skin, the way his emerald green eyes glowed in excitement every time he found something cool. Those eyes were the first thing he noticed on Dean. When he woke up in the car, all tied up, he saw them glowing in the dark. So beautiful, but so dangerous. He didn’t know why did he was surprised. Dean was a serial killer, after all, the man himself was a predator, a hunter.

But when he was sleeping peacefully at his side, Dean was a different man. He was calm, careless about the chaos of the outside world, of his past.

When he told Sam how he’d to lived in a mess-up and broken childhood, he was so terrified, not at the man but his past. All of the pain he’d suffered. Sam was lucky compared to Dean, although he lost his family, nobody abused him, nobody tried to hurt him every day, mentally and physically.

He couldn’t help but hated John Winchester. He was an asshole, kept calling Dean a monster but he was the monster in this story. Luckily, John was dead. To Sam, a bullet to the head was the most merciful way to kill. If he was still breathing, Sam swore he would hunt him down and let him pay for what he did to Dean.

Dean stirred in his sleep. Sam wished he know what was Dean dreaming of? Was it the nightmare? Was it John Winchester? He couldn’t tell. But Dean didn’t show any pain, so Sam bet he was dreaming of something else besides his past.

Was he dreaming about Sam?  
——  
Dean woke up at the sound of running water in the bathroom. He looked at his side to see Sam wasn’t there. He was in the shower.

“Sammy,” he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “ya in there?”  
“Yeah.”

“You okay?” Sam asked in worry when he exited the bathroom.   
“Will be... If I have coffee.”  
“I made breakfast. And yes, Dean! I’ll make coffee for you.”

Sam turned his back to Dean, facing the kitchen. Even with his face hiding, Dean still saw the beauty of the younger man. God, he wanted to jump up and hug him tightly from his back, inhaling the shampoo he used earlier so much! Just like what lovers did.

But he couldn’t. Sam didn’t love him. And he didn’t want to ruin the relationship he built between them. He didn’t want Sam to return to the scaredy and cautious Sam Wesson like when Dean first attacked him.

This comfortable friendship (or whatever it was) he built between the two was hard, he didn’t want to break it.  
——  
Sam sat at the quay, legs dangling out, feeling to water beneath him, nose buried in the book Dean stole from the cashier from the store they went to buy food previously. He did that for Sam because the younger man's told him he hasn’t read a book since Dean, as Sam said, “drag him to the Impala”. (“Sam, he doesn’t read the book, no one would when his eyes glued to the freakin’ phone”)

The storyline was amazing, although he did nothing but staring at the pages and wandering his mind somewhere. And that “somewhere” was Dean. Hell, he didn’t even know what the book was about, he’s never read this before. And the older man’s image didn’t let him. 

Somehow, he couldn’t help but found Dean was likable. Lovable? Whatever it called. When he was dragged outside, stargazing with Dean, he thought the man wasn’t that bad. He was surprised a blood-thirsty maniac like him could be soft sometimes. He started to have feelings for him, started to be comfortable around the man.

Then the bar incident happened.

He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to remember it. Dean knew that, so he has never brought it up. Thank god!

But after that, he looked at Dean with different eyes. First was the terror as Dean killed the rapist. But then again, he had no reason to freak out, he saved him, his life, his already broken mind. He was his savior, and yet, Sam hasn’t said a “thank you” to him. He should do that next time when he had a chance.

The second was the weakness. He realized he was helpless in every life-threatening situation, insecure under the force of everyone, even Dean himself. He couldn’t fight back when he first attacked and drugged Sam, couldn’t push him out when Dean tied him forcefully in the mattress. How could he manage to free himself when Phil assaulted him? 

It like Dean was made to protect him.

The third was mixed of unnamed feeling. Love and confusion. Lonfusion? Haha.

But seriously, Sam thought he might have had a crush on the man, the one that took him against his will, the infamous serial killer.

Now, he wasn’t astonished about this. The younger man sometimes found himself look into crimes and criminals, before he met Dean. He’d seen a case like this. In 1973, in Stockholm, Sweden, four hostages refused to work with the polices. They defended their captors. Stockholm syndrome, that was what it called.

The victims changed their minds when the captors started treating them well.   
Hatred, fear turned into positive emotions. For Sam’s case, it was love and pity. Dean saw him as a real companion more than a captive, Dean told him about his past, how life treated him unfairly. They all changed Sam, changed his point of view, changed his feelings toward Dean.

God, what happened to him?  
——  
“How’s research goin’, Cassie?” Gabriel asked, “Did you find anything useful or is it zero?”  
“No, nothing!” Cas said in disappointment, “He couldn’t have fallen from the sky, could he?”

“It like he just popped out of thin air!” He continued.

He’s been sitting at the desk for eternity. The mysterious guy was such a... mystery. Whatever he was, this one wasn’t a noob, due to the fact there was no information about him. It was like he was...

“The Doctor,” Gabriel joked, “he must be the Doctor, but American. Did you check for the Tardis? I assumed he parked somewhere near the crime scene. Haha.”

He chuckled. Cas was lack of film references. He has always buried himself in work that the dark-haired detective sometimes forgot to have fun and turn on the TV.

“I didn’t know you watch Doctor Who?” 

What Cas had said surprised Gabriel. He didn’t expect his partner to know about the famous series. Guess things changed!

“You know about it?” Gabriel asked in awe.  
“Yeah. It was my favorite, actually.”  
“Oh! Sorry for misjudged you. I thought you were a workaholic.”  
“And I thought you weren’t into nerdy stuff.” Cas joked for the first time.

“What?” Gabriel was taken aback by the trench-coated detective response, “I wasn’t! But Doctor Who is an exception.”

“Whatever.” Cas shrugged sarcastically, mentally rolled his eyes.

“Hey, did you watch that episode with the green aliens in season 1?” Gabriel asked with care, in a totally-not-into-needy-stuff way.  
“The Slitheen, you mean? What’s with that?”  
“I don’t like it. Disgusting.” Gabriel grimaced.  
“I think it was fine, not my favorite but...” Cas suddenly stopped, eyes widen as the realization hit him.

“I got it! I got it!” Cas cried in excitement, “I think I know how to solve the mystery!”  
“What mystery? We were talking ‘bout the Slitheen.”  
“No, the man. I got it.”  
“I don’t follow.” Gabriel felt his mind was buzzing with confusion.

“Speaking of the Slitheen, they stealing human’s identity, right?”  
“Yeah.”  
“What if that’s what this guy does? Living with a fake identity.”  
“Or identities,” Gabriel added.

“There are only two possibilities explain his zero information,” Cas continued, “one, he was missing. Two, he faked his own death.”

Cas was excited. Never has he felt so good when solving a tricky mystery like this. They were one step closer to the Night Hunter. Soon, the beast was going to end up in jail, just where he deserved it.

“You go look into the missing cases,” Cas told his partner, “I’ll check the dead ones, see if anything suspicious, or look like a fake one.”

So not only his partner was into Doctor Who, but he also took ideas from the show to solve crimes. These were too many surprises for Gabriel to handle.  
——  
The night fell down. There was no sight of a single movement. Everything was so quiet. Expect the sounds in the wooden cabin next to the lake.

Dean made them dinner. To Sam’s surprise, he was good at it. Dean didn’t forget to make the dish healthy for Sam. After all, he would sleep with the young man bitching next to him if he didn’t.

The two sat on the bed together, wrapped in a big blanket as the sound of fire moving in the background. Sam was reading the same book this morning while Dean was looking somewhere outside of the window. He looked tense, like something was begging to escape his mouth but he couldn’t.

“Sammy, can I tell you something?” Dean asked nervously.  
“You can tell me everything, Dean,” Sam pulled his eyes out of the book, looking directly into Dean’s green orbs.  
“Well, remember the thing I wanted to tell you?” he said as Dean put the book on the nightstand, “The one I was ‘bout to say but you interrupted me with the ‘tell my your past’ stuff?”  
“Yeah.”

Dean was going to confess his love to Sam, even if he didn’t feel the same way. He’s done being the coward, it was time to man up and overcome his fear.

But he didn’t expect it to be so difficult. He was being ridiculous. How could a three-word thing hurt someone?

“Well, when you... when I took you, I thought... ‘hey, having a companion isn’t bad, right?’,” he explained anxiously, “but then, I started to have these... weird feeling toward you.”

Sam’s was unreadable. Oh no. Did he misunderstand him? No, he didn’t mean to say it like he wanted to “promote” the younger man to prey for killing.

“No, no... not like that!” He added, “It was... nothing near that.”

Come one, you could do this! Stop being a chicken.

“Sammy, I...”

Dean was about to say it, say it so he could end the torture he suffered around the man. But he was interrupted, stopped by something pressing tightly on his lips. A pair of pink lips.

Sam kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are welcomed. Feel free to point out mistakes you found to help me improve my English ^^


End file.
